


Change is Hard

by TwoCatsTailoring



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world altered, shifted, and everything changed for everyone. But as years go by maybe the hardest changes are the personal ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change is Hard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thrasirshall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrasirshall/gifts).



Rude sat down on the concrete back step and popped the top on a bottle of beer. Taking a deep drink and wiping the sweat out of his eyes, he surveyed the amount of work he still had to do in the relative quiet of the back yard. If it could even be called a yard, but it would be soon enough if he had anything to say about it.

His solitude and mental preparations for the rest of his afternoon were interrupted by the only person who still made his back tense, even after the years had passed. Barret Wallace swung the gate open and entered, looking as much like a thundercloud as he usually did when he had to be anywhere in the same general vicinity of Rude.

Usually, he was an excellent judge of other people but Wallace? Rude was still never sure if the guy was going to just avoid him or punch him. Mostly, he just never said anything directly to him. But this was different.

Metal hand swinging as he walked, Barret approached Rude and made exactly no effort at smalltalk.

“I got something to say to you and I don’t give a shit if you don’t want to hear it.” Barret crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Rude who said nothing at all, just motioned to the cooler at the edge of the stairs.

That angered Barret even more it seemed because he glared harder and his voice was louder as he said, “You’ve made a fucking mess of everything. Tifa and me, we had this under control until you showed up, sniffin’ around her like some kinda animal. And she put up with it and because she did I did.”

Rude just listened, blinking in the sun behind his sunglasses and taking another drink of his beer. He had expected this at some point, but somehow had thought the man past it now. Seemed not.

“I know I’m gone a lot but I honestly thought she’d come to her senses. Get past the novelty of it or whatever it was that made you so special,” the sarcasm and hostility was evident. Barret had never been good at hiding his real feelings about anything. Rude thought that it was actually one of his better points.

“I was happy to look after both kids. The bar. Cloud. So you two could have your dates.” There was acid in the words now. “But now I come back to this bullshit?” Barret gestured around the back-yard-to-be and fairly fumed.

“You think you can pull this? You think you can waltz in and fuck all that up without me havin’ words about it?” His temper was rising as was the red in his face. Blotches of color stained the dark skin of his cheeks purple and his fists balled up.

And Rude had heard enough now. “Of course not…,” calm as ever, collected and at a reasonable volume even though if the truth could be known Rude was ready to duck a blow if it came.

Barret cut him off, “I don’t wanna hear your excuses! We worked hard me and her. Worked to build a home for those kids. Even for Denzel, getting’ picked up and brought home because Cloud thought he was some kind of message from Aerith.” Barret’s voice choked around the name of the dead girl. “No kid needs that but we busted ass for him and Marlene. Tifa givin’ up her life for a houseful of kids and a guy who’s coming apart a little more every day. Slavin’ for them and the community when she’s hurt just as bad as they are.”

Barrett licked his downturned lips, the anger and grief over the unjustness of it all spelled out in the deep lines of his forehead, the paleness of his human knuckles and the scrape of metal on metal as his arm raked across the zippers of his pockets.

He had to get this out so Rude did not try to say any more. Just waited and the waiting was infuriating to Barret who wasn’t all that good at it himself.

“Maybe I shoulda said this sooner. Maybe I shoulda sent you packing before it got this far. Maybe when I heard Marlene singin’ one of your beach-songs I shoulda realized how fucked it all was. Denzel mixing all kinda shit up to clear the tub drain and blowing up the bathroom….”

Rude couldn’t help it then, he had to smile. He’d had the bathroom redone because that had been his fault. He should have showed the boy more than just the pretty green and blue flames and instilled some caution. He had no idea he would go that far and since no one got hurt, it _was_ funny.

“… and it was all you. Worming your way in to a perfectly content life for everybody and dickin’ it all up, just like ShinRa always did.” Barret was fairly frothing with anger now. His heart raced, his mind was in turmoil. “And just like ShinRa you don’t even care! You never have. And now you’ve ruined everything. We were happy, you asshole. And you’ve fucked it all up!”

And now Rude stood, beer bottle left on the step and arms hanging loose but ready at his sides. “Careful Wallace,” he warned evenly. “It sounds like you are suggesting that no one is happy now. And you know that is not the case at all.”

Barret’s jaw worked hard, teeth grinding together as he struggled with words and hurt and change. Because he was right. The Turk was right and Barret knew it and did not have it in him to deny anything anymore. Because they were all happy except him. Barret, who struggled with this change, with this serious alteration in what he had hoped for and wanted for his life, for the little family they’d cobbled together. In his mind there’d never been any room for anyone else because what they had worked well enough for him.

But Rude was right. And so was Barret. Tifa’d given up everything including her own wants and a lot of her needs for that little family. Tucked herself away to make room for what everyone else needed from her. And Barret had let her while Rude had not. And Barret did not like that a ShinRa Turk had seen what he’d missed – that she needed, wanted, deserved more.

Rude, realizing that there was a huge struggle going through the other man’s head, let the silence hang for a long time, finally breaking it when he could tell that the battle was nearing completion when the spots of purple faded from Wallace’s face. He was an honest man, something Rude envied just a little. That too was one of his better qualities.

Rude leaned down to the cooler, pulled out another beer and popped the top on it before handing it to Barret. “If you feel better now,” he said with a nod, “I would not mind your help with this.” He gestured to the stack of boxes in the bed of the truck that was backed into the sparse yard. “It seems that babies need a lot of shit.”


End file.
